Safe In Your Arms
by DustyRabbit
Summary: It's not easy being Lord of the Valley. For even if he has bad days, he can't show it. Thankfully, there is at least one understanding soul left in Rivendell.


**Warning:** Family feels.

 **Summary:** It's not easy being Lord of the Valley. For even if he has bad days, he can't show it. Thankfully, there is at least one understanding soul left in Rivendell.

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 **.oOo.**

Safe In Your Arms

 **.oOo.**

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Large stone walls lay shattered in the muddied soil. Rain drenched the ground with heavy showers and now water mingled with red as it flowed unhindered over stone. Bodies, mangled and lifeless, littered the crumbling fortress. The living still fighting above the trampled dead against their attackers. The large bodied Uruk-hai had broken down their defences. The Deeping Wall now breached, brought down by the black fire of the enemy. The horn blowers sounded the call for retreat, drawing back their forces to seek shelter within the stone confines of the Hornburg. Their enemies following close behind, determined to see to the end of the people of Rohan.

A clap of thunder illuminated the scene and burned the image into his mind with a fierce force, so strong that even after waking the image of the Battle of Helm's Deep lingered on his retina.

Rubbing a hand over his eyes, he closed himself off from the surrounding dark of his bedroom. The stone walls blocked out the rest of Imladris. But did little to help him hide from his own conscience.

 _Had he done enough? Or had he sent his sons away in vain – to their deaths?_

The creak of the bedroom door alerted him that he was no longer alone with his thoughts and so he tried desperately to rebuild his usual infallible mask of calm. Thankfully, the light from the doorway did not agitate his eyes. But instead served to outline the form that stood in it. A dark-haired elf lingered on the threshold, as if uncertain whether his presence was wanted at the moment or not.

Slender hands folded in on themselves to wrap long robes tighter about him.

"Elrond?"

The elf in question closed his eyes hearing the concern in the elf's voice. Erestor was always keeping watch over him these days – insisting on silently caring for him from the shadows.

Elrond had once asked him why and Erestor had simply answered that it was only right that someone did, since Elrond always pushed himself to the limit, taking care of everyone else.

Near soundless steps tapped against the floor. A tall, dark pillar as he moved closer to the bed before taking a seat on it. A hand reached out to touch his upper arm, the move questioning but not at all pressing.

Elrond peeked out from beneath his fingers, silver eyes meeting onyx. "It is nothing, Erestor."

The advisor shook his head in silent dismissal of his words. "It is _not_ nothing. It never is. Do not downplay your worries, Elrond. You do not need to carry them all on your own."

"It is _my_ burden to bear," Elrond said thickly, as his whole body ached with the exhaustion of another unfinished night of rest. "It always has been... Now _and_ before."

"The curse of foresight might be yours alone. But it should not stop you from easing your heart of worry. If sharing some of the horrors with a willing listening ear will help alleviate their weight on your mind know that I am here for you, should you have need of me."

Elrond relaxed at the gentle, if slightly reprimanding, words. "I know, Erestor. I have not forgotten your devotion to me. No matter how many centuries pass."

He pulled himself into a sit on the soft feather mattress, eyes resting on the vision of calm beside him. Somehow, the stillness that surrounded the advisor always managed to calm Elrond's own heart. To allow him that small respite he needed, a safe harbour to return to whenever travelling the sea of his dreams became too much for him.

For they had been troubled of late. More so than they usually were.

"I..." Elrond hesitated for a moment, grey eyes strayed down to the woven covers trying to hide his insecurities. "Have you ever wondered if you have made the right choice? If a simple action can alter the lines of fate in a whole new direction, what is to say a slight turn toward the other path won't change fate altogether?"

The advisor frowned at his words. "We are not all-knowing, Elrond. Only the Valar can foresee all ends. Not even those gifted with glimpses of the paths we shall wander through life. There is a reason why the Valar rule fate for us. For it is too heavy a burden to carry on a single pair of shoulders."

Lips curled slightly, and Elrond wondered how his friend had become so wise when Elrond himself felt so lost. "Yet here I strive daily to do what is best with what little I am offered..."

"A reasonable thought, indeed. For the will to act out of the goodness of our hearts is embedded in the very core of our beings." Erestor lay a hand over Elrond's heart. "It is what makes us elves."

Elrond raised a hand of his own to cover Erestor's, the appendage easily swallowing the smaller one. "You are wise, my friend. A welcome comfort for my weary soul whenever I am in need of one."

"If I could spare you all of your heartache I would gladly do so. I know your mind, Elrond. I know where your heart lies whenever you stare out over the mountains." Erestor softened his gaze as he recalled his Lord's lonely form standing watch over the East. "Your sons will return to you. Elladan and Elrohir are strong, and although Estel might not have the same prowess in battle, he is far wiser than most Men."

The mention of his beloved sons fighting battles out in the East reawakened the dull ache in his chest that had started there ever since he sent his twins off some months ago.

They are good warriors, warlords in their own right and time. Well accustomed to battle. But still, Elrond could not stop his niggling worry that they may not return to him while still breathing.

Seeing that fate play out would surely be the end of him, something that his dream walking seemed intent on showing him over and over, during the dark midnight hours. The odds were against them and their chances of success minimal. But his sons had insisted on helping their foster brother in his task. The stakes were high, and it tore Elrond's heart apart to send them off, but he could not find it in himself to leave Estel to his fate alone.

Not when more lives than his depended on him winning.

Soft finger pads brushed his cheek, the action wiped away the wetness Elrond had not realised already ran there.

Blinking, Elrond met the empathetic dark eyes of his friend as they watched him silently. Not a word spilled from his lips. But words were not needed. Erestor's presence alone was enough. Elrond was not alone anymore.

"Do not doubt your heart, Elrond. You did the right thing."

Elrond swallowed hard. "I have sent my sons to their deaths."

"You were forced to make the hardest choice any parent would struggle with. But you managed. You did it for _them_. Now, it is up to them to hold their part." The fingers strayed to his temple, brushing away some of the dark strands there. "You were not so different from them long ago, a young elf taking to arms... I remember experiencing the same fear when the High King told me you had been accepted into the ranks."

"The war back then was different," Elrond protested. "The circumstances were far better compared to now."

"Yet you still left people behind in Lindon to worry for your welfare. It is not a sight I wish to see again anytime soon. _You_ , riding off to war... Even though you have come nearly five millennia since that day," Erestor's smile waned a little. Yet it remained tinted by a hint of fondness as he remembered the times past. "I suppose children will always be children, no matter their age, to those who hold them as such in their hearts."

Elrond paused hearing the confession. For although Elrond had long suspected that the elder advisor held a sort of fatherly sentiment for him, Erestor had never tried to word those feelings to Elrond before. Even though Elrond had known Erestor for most of his life, ever since he was returned into the care of the High King after his brief time with the feanorians, _never_ had Elrond thought the elf bold enough to claim such paternal affection out openly.

Erestor must have read his thoughts because he quickly apologised. "Forgive me, my Lord. It was too forward of me to speak of such things-"

Elrond raised his hand to put a stop to his excuses.

"You have been a respected tutor, my advisor and a much-needed friend to me for many years, Erestor. You have taught my children. Been there for them, more than any relatives of mine can ever claim to have achieved. I think you are entitled to show a bit more affection than most in my acquaintance. You, if anyone, deserve that privilege."

"But..."

"I know I have never said so out loud, but there have been plenty of times in my youth when I have secretly thought of you as a father figure. Ever have you been so generous with me. The time you have so selflessly spent on me, though I know I have not always been the best of students." Elrond picked out the small twitch of Erestor's lips, which indicated he had indeed hit a fond memory. Probably not one of his best moments, either. Elrond was stubborn to a fault, and even more so when he was younger. A swell of gratitude swept through him. "I am sincerely grateful for your wisdom, if not for your support. But most of all for the fact that you have _always_ been there whenever I needed you. Thank you, Erestor."

Emotion clouded onyx eyes and Elrond could see that his little speech had brought more than gratitude through to the older elf.

Erestor seemed almost overcome by the news of his honest affection. His voice, soft and tender, as if something might burst should he decide to speak too quickly:

"There is no need for gratitude, Elrond. All I give I offer freely, for in my heart I have considered you my son for almost as long as I've known you."

At the end of his words Erestor was unable to stop a single tear from falling.

Yet, somehow, he managed to regain composure quite quickly. A skill learned through years of tricky manoeuvring in conversation, no doubt. And so, the proud advisor was once again that; the stone pillar that stood strong and unshakable in face of adversity. But somehow still capable of sharing warmth and affection whenever the world grew too cold and unwelcome to live in. It was what Elrond as a child once imagined of his own father. But his father by blood had never been there for him to play that role. Instead, Elrond found himself wondering how blessed he was to be offered another, even if they were unrelated by kin.

"You honour me more than I ever dared to hope. A friend you have always been to me and to know your regard brings me joy." Erestor's voice was light, but not unburdened by emotion. He raised his dark eyes once again, yet the light moisture in them did nothing to undermine his kind smile. He gently but firmly took Elrond's hand in his. "Know that I would stand by you, Elrond, through whatever fire and darkness may come. _I love you_."

There was no lack of conviction in those three little words.

Elrond, hearing the words he didn't know he'd missed so much since the dark fell over the Arda, felt his throat clog up and only barely did he manage a smile of his own in return to that on Erestor's lips.

"I know you do, Erestor. I love you too, _Ada."_

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 _ **# The End**_

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 **AN** : Found this little thing lying on my hard drive. A bit short, but hopefully, the sentiment it's supposed to convey is understood despite it's shortness. I feel people need a bit of warmth this time of year. Have a nice weekend, everybody! – DR.


End file.
